


Let Them Bloom as Our Thing Blooms

by 27dis



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Dorks in Love, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dis/pseuds/27dis
Summary: A flower shop in Kaer Morhen’s borders.It feels like an opening of a joke, waiting for the punchline, but it isn’t. At least for Jaskier.Well, he is right. All he finds in Kaer Morhen are a good place to stay, new friends, and love.
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90
Collections: The Witcher Secret Santa 2020





	Let Them Bloom as Our Thing Blooms

**Author's Note:**

> To my giftee, beeruler:  
> Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope you have a good holiday. I'm sorry this came out late from Christmas, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!  
> Hope you have a good year ahead!

A flower shop in Kaer Morhen’s borders.

It feels like an opening of a joke, waiting for the punchline, but it isn’t. At least for Jaskier. Oh, well, some might argue that everything he ever did were jokes, but, this time, Jaskier knows he wants to do this seriously. He brushes off every worry that comes his way, replying back with a smile and a rose from his shop.

Some say he has gone crazy for real this time. Some say that it’d be a matter of weeks before Jaskier closes his shop. Some say that he wouldn’t even be alive by the end of the month. Jaskier doesn’t blame them, really. He is known for his antics—and his songs, of course—so doing something frowned upon like this is normal before he eventually gives up.

But, looking at the nicely blue painted door with his name on it, at the neat white paint on the walls, at the beautiful bouquets on the windows and inside the building, Jaskier feels like he is doing the right thing.

His shop is not as busy as the ones in the capital, no. Though there are some folks that have lived in the area for decades, stopping by his shop, claiming that it’s a nice change of scenery. Not everyday they can see and buy such beautiful flowers, they say.

“People out there all say that coming here is a big mistake,” a patron—an elf, he looks like—who has introduced himself as Dara the first day Jaskier came in town. “But the witchers are all just a bunch of people trying to make a living by killing monsters, you know. They act just like us. Oh, do you know they have morning drills around the town?”

And it isn’t Jaskier to let such a story just go away. “Morning drills? Tell me more.”

“They start when the sun rises so maybe you don’t get a chance to see them, but they usually go out to either run, do some delivery around this town, or just patrol.”

It’s true that Jaskier just opened the shop a few hours ago, when the sun was already up high in the sky. He did see a few rough looking men passing by here and there, even now.

“Do they cross this path? ‘Cause it’d be nice to say hello.”

“Of course! They never miss a spot.”

With that knowledge, the next day, true to Dara’s words, Jaskier opens the shop to the witchers roaming around the streets. They are running, conversing, even some Jaskier can see joking around. Though they all tighten up as soon as he takes the turn towards his shop and Jaskier can feel the eyes on him. He tries to act nonchalantly about it and goes straight to his destination. He had been expecting the wary looks to him. After all, he is a new addition to the street.

What he didn’t expect is the white haired witcher staring at his shop door.

“Good morning, sir?” Jaskier greets, trying to sound casual and not like he’s asking a question—it fails miserably. The witcher spares a look at him, as if he just realizes Jaskier is standing there. _It’s near impossible though_ , Jaskier thinks, the witcher just didn’t bother to look at him before. Now that he is up close, Jaskier takes in details about him. The witcher’s white hair does stand out more than the other witchers’ usually darker hair. Jaskier has been a pretty tall guy his entire life so he is not that surprised to find the witcher only a few centimeters taller than him. But what captures his attention the most is his eyes. It’s amber and glowing, like a fire. Jaskier can feel himself spacing out staring at those eyes. He quickly shakes himself mentally before he gets caught slipping out in front of a new person.

“Something caught your eyes, sir?” Jaskier asks again, now that his path is blocked with the witcher still standing there. He offers him a kind smile and receives a few blinks.

Somehow he has a feeling that they are both confused, which is confusing, thus making them both even more confused.

Jaskier breaks the chain.

“So?” he asks again. “If you want to wait a while, sir, I can open up the shop first then you are free to look around. I’m sure the lilies back there would look good with your eyes, sir.”

Silence settles between them as they stare at each other. But without saying anything, the witcher walks away.

“Hey, wha—?!” Jaskier is left there, bewildered at the attitude. “ _Rude_.”

A thunderous laughter comes from his right, making him turn again. He finds two witchers with brown hair, one is the source of the sound while the other is looking at them both exasperatedly. 

“I have a feeling you have a wonderful time handling these two, sir,” Jaskier chimes in, catching them both off guard. The more sane looking one recovers first, sending back a shy grin.

“Can’t wait until I get them both off from my hands.”

“I feel betrayed,” the other witcher says, looking mock hurt. 

Jaskier grins at their antics. The two seem close at the way they continue their banter even with Jaskier there, looking at them both. And if the laugh is anything to go by, Jaskier would say they at least know the white haired witcher.

“Well, gentlemen,” he says, clapping his hand, gaining the attention of both witchers who were bantering, “care to look at my flowers collection and tell me about the rude witcher?”

When Jaskier gets two matching grins, he knows he says the right thing.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Jaskier’s flower supply had decreased and along with it, comes the knowledge of both the witchers’ name, the rude witcher’s name, and why he is so rude in the first place.

Jaskier’s conclusion is that he is secretly emotionally constipated. Eskel, the sane looking witcher, frowns at the title while Lambert, the other one, just laughs loudly again.

“Geralt is going to be delighted,” he says in between his laugh. Jaskier is more worried about his furniture—that is dangerously close to Lambert’s flailing hands—than the hard rocking body of the witcher, but he let it slide since Lambert—and technically Eskel too—is his first customer. Coming from Lambert, Jaskier knows he means the opposite.

“Well, if he is so delighted, he should’ve answered my greeting or something,” Jaskier grumbles, complaining about Geralt for the hundredth time that morning. 

“You know I just told you he is actually very shy and has a bad history with humans,” Eskel replies.

“And you know I just told you he is actually emotionally constipated,” Jaskier huffs. “Now tell me what flowers he likes so I can arrange something for him tomorrow morning.”

Both witchers look at him ridiculously. Jaskier feels like he is missing something here.

“Why are you looking at me like that? And that look doesn’t work on me. I got too many of those I’m immune at this point.”

“Figures,” Lambert mutters. “No normal person would open a flower shop near this district.”

“A logical person would know this district is safe,” Jaskier retorts back. He finds that Lambert particularly loosens up when he does it. Eskel just shakes his head like he is disagreeing, but the little smile on his face says otherwise.

“You are going to be the death of Geralt.”

“Oh, no,” Jaskier deadpans. “Such a beauty can’t go to waste.”

And that’s how he finds himself greeting Geralt on his morning run, accompanied with a flower bouquet that’s different day by day. He makes sure to include buttercups though—somehow. Buttercups aren’t the usual flower to throw in a bouquet, but Jaskier likes to be unique. And he likes buttercups.

So morning by morning, Jaskier would open his shop, arrange a bouquet, then goes out just in time to yell a greeting to Geralt—who looks very much annoyed everyday, but Jaskier is not letting that discouraged him—and shoves the bouquet to his hands just so the witcher would accept it. At first, Geralt would blush really hard, Lambert would laugh like he never does in his young-witcher-long life, and Eskel would grin widely as the event unfolds in front of him. But lately, Geralt would look at him with those eyes of his, the edge of his mouth would be tilted upwards just a bit, and he would actually answer his greeting by words.

These little interactions grow to become more than just a mere routine, at least for Jaskier. Beside their little chat in the morning, Geralt would also come willingly to his shop just to see him or hang out a bit. Jaskier even gets invited to a family dinner once.

 _“Congrats,”_ Eskel had said that particular evening. _“You are officially Geralt’s close someone.”_

Jaskier was taken aback at first, but that made him realize something.

 _“It’s more than a crush, I think,”_ Jaskier said suddenly to Lambert who was hanging around the shop one day. The witcher just stared at him, waiting for the context.

 _“This thing between Geralt and I. For me, in that matter,”_ he clarified. Lambert nodded, gesturing for him to continue. _“I thought it’s a crush. But now I don’t think so.”_

Lambert just stares again at him as Jaskier bangs his head to the counter. Lambert was also oddly silent as he rambled some more. Jaskier realized he was thinking.

 _“You fell for him hard,”_ he said, in a matter of fact manner.

Jaskier couldn’t deny it. He didn’t, doesn’t. He doesn’t say his feelings outright to Geralt though. He doesn’t think that the witcher would be ready for that. But he doesn’t hold back his affections for him and he can see that Geralt starts opening up to him more every passing day.

So he follows the days like usual. Opening the store at six, arranges a bouquet for Geralt, greets him and the other witchers and folks that passes by, chats a bit with Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel, welcoming customers and doing his work with flowers, doing a little concert with his guitar after lunch, then continuing his work and maybe hangs around with some witchers or Dara, close his shop when it becomes too dark for him to roam around the district, always getting some help at getting to his little apartment.

Jaskier realizes he is happy. That he is looking forward to every next day.

When morning comes, he would walk with a bounce in his steps, greeting some folks that he passes by on his way to the shop, opens the shop’s door with a big smile on his face, and thinks, “What a happy day.”

* * *

“Morning, Geralt!” Jaskier greets one morning to Geralt as the witcher passes by his shop—like usual. “Looking as beautiful as ever, huh.” He shoves the bouquet to Geralt—like usual—but the witcher has taken a habit of taking the flowers without much resistance like he used to and Jaskier never gets tired of being delighted by it.

“Morning,” Geralt greets back, also a habit he has taken lately which never fails to make Jaskier smile wider.

“And the lovey dovey couple goes at it again,” Lambert chimes in from behind Geralt. Eskel is just a few steps behind him, giving Jaskier a little wave.

“And there comes peace wrecker,” Jaskier snarks. “Morning to you, Eskel.”

“As much as we want to chat with you like usual,” Eskel starts—Lambert lets out a, “I don't!” while Geralt hums disagreeing—, “we can’t. A special stock would arrive at seven sharp and it’s going to be a very busy day.”

“Busier than usual?”

“Yep. Don’t be offended if Geralt and I don’t come to your little concerts,” Lambert adds teasingly. The two usually have jobs near the shop so when lunchtime is over, the usual time for Jaskier to set up his guitar and amplifier outside of his shop, the two would already be there with the excuse of taking a break after a long run. Geralt looks particularly upset at the whole prospect, frowning the whole tie, as if he just got reminded that he can’t spend a little time with Jaskier.

Jaskier has a hunch that his little crush might be reciprocated, but actually seeing it is nice.

“Aw, don’t worry,” Jaskier brushes it off. “Want to eat at the usual to make it up?” Geralt has taken a liking at an all-you-can-eat place just a few weeks ago. The thought of the restaurant usually makes him light up a little more, like just now.

“Eh, I can’t, got some work until late today,” Eskel quickly refuses, which is suspicious.

“Me too. It’s my turn to look after Ciri and Dara today,” Lambert also refuses.

Now. They are definitely up to something.

“Guess it’s just you and me, Gerl,” Jaskier says anyway, grinning up to the witcher. “Half past seven?”

“Mhm,” Geralt hums as both Eskel and Lambert excuse themselves, running to the end of the road to pick up something.

“Ah, now I have to make another bouquet this evening.”

“No need.”

“But I want to.”

“...Okay.”

Jaskier just grins at him while Geralt sighs. They chat a bit more before the witcher gets called by a fellow to help.

“Good luck at work!” Jaskier says as Geralt walks away. He thinks he hears a “you too” from him, but it might be his hearing playing with him.

Now alone and has nothing else to do, Jaskier watches the road full of people passing around, leaning at the door frame as he does so.

“Really,” he murmurs, “I just got set up by those two, aren’t I?”

Jaskier finds that he doesn’t mind it one bit. Maybe even grateful.

Those two are going to get a bouquet for him tomorrow if the date goes well.


End file.
